‘A United Nations in a jeep.’ That’s how Corporal E. Watkins, of the Royal Australian Army Provost Corps detachment, serving in Saigon, describes a joint patrol.

There are two of them every day.

The first one starts at 7 am and ends at 3 pm, the second starts at 2.30 pm and finishes at 11.30 pm.

For the second shift, the day starts when an Australian Military Policeman reports for duty at the U.S. 716^th Military Police Battalion in Saigon. There he’ll meet the New Zealand and U.S. counterparts with whom he’ll be working.

The three MPs take a radio controlled jeep and drive to the Central Precinct, where they are joined by a Vietnamese National Police inspector.

Four men, four nations, one job.

Their beat – the whole of Saigon and Cholon.

Other military police patrols work Saigon and Cholon, but they are on fixed boundaries. The joint patrol has no boundaries.

Its tasks are many and varied.

The afternoon is hot and humid, siesta time is over and the streets are a tangle of bicycles, scooters, cars, trucks, motorcycles and people.

A soldier on leave is spotted.

He’s spent his day well and is lurching along happily.

He could be a prime target for a Viet Cong attack.

He looks up and grins as the MPs approach. His hotel is the other side of town.

Five in a jeep is a tight squeeze, but the soldier doesn’t seem to care. He’s already half asleep. He’ll sleep soundly and safe for the rest of the day – in his own bed.

Off again, the jeep snakes its way through the heavy downtown traffic.

Suddenly, the crackling voice of the controller at headquarters adds to the noise of the city, informing the patrol that trouble is brewing in a small bar. The address is obtained and one of the MPs knows the place. He has had calls from there before.

On arrival, the owner of the bar breaks into a torrent of Vietnamese. A soldier is complaining of being overcharged. The owner denies it.

This is one for the inspector, who talks fast, in the sing-song nasal tongue of Vietnam.

There may have been a mistake. A price is fixed and everyone seems satisfied.

And so the day goes on. A couple of minor traffic accidents. A reported V.C. grenade throwing. A soldier on leave has missed the truck back to his battalion.

Time seems to have wings and the patrol returns to headquarters.

Another day, another patrol.

Tomorrow will be the same. So will the day after and every day that there are Allied troops in Saigon.

The joint patrol will be out, looking, searching, inquiring and helping where ever needed.

Footnote: The Australian Army Provost detachment in Saigon has its own ‘United Nations’. Of the six NCOs, only two, Sergeant A. Spinney and Corporal M.E. Williams, are Australian born. Corporal H. Hurij is a native of Germany and Corporals R. Bate, E. Watkins and B. Burstow all hail from England.